5 

059 

768 


A  PLAY  IN  ONE  ACT 

by 

Essex   Dane 


FROM 

Mrs.  Edmund  Andi 

561  Surf  Street 

Chicago.  Illinoii 


When  The  Whirlwind  Blows 

WALTER  H.  BAKER  CO.,  BOSTON 
Publishers 


When  The  Whirlwind 
Blows 

A  Play  in  One  Act 


By 
ESSEX  DANE 


••  WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS  "  is  fully  protected  by  copy- 
right, and  all  rights  are  reserved.  Permission  to  act,  read  publicly  or 
to  make  any  nee  of  it  must  be  obtained  from  WALTER  H.  BAKER 
COMPANY,  41  Winter  Street,  Boston,  Mass. 

It  may  be  presented  by  amateurs  upon  payment  of  a  royalty  of  five 
dollars  (f  5  oo)  for  each  performance,  payable  to"  WALTER  H.  BAKER 
COMPANY  one  week  before  the  date  when  the  play  is  given. 
Professional  rates  quoted  on  application. 

Whenever  the  play  Is  produced,  the  following  notice  must  appear  on  all 
programs,  printing  and  advertising  for  the  play:  "Produced  by  special 
arrangement  with  the  WALTER  H.  BAKER  COMPANY,  of  Boston,  Mass. 

COPYRIGHT,  1921,  BY  ESSEX  DANE 
COPYRIGHT,  1926,  BY  ESSEX  DANE 

All  rights  reserved 
Made  in  U.  S.  A. 


BOSTON 
WALTER  H.  BAKER  COMPANY 

Publishers 


When  the  Whirlwind  Blows 


CHARACTERS 

MADAME  ELIZABETH  ANDROYA,  Wife  of  General 
Androya,  of  the  Army  of  the  regular  Govern- 
ment. 

JOSEFA,  Mother  of  Oswald,  a  blacksmith  and  a  mem- 
ber of  the  Workmen's  Council,  set  up  in  the 
district. 

ANXA,  Lately  lady's  maid  to  Madame  Androya. 

SCENE. — A  district  in  any  European  country  in 
the  throes  of  political  and  labor  struggles  and 
upheavals.  JOSEFA'S  house,  situated  in  the 
country,  near  a  town  of  minor  importance. 


N.  B.  The  personalities  of  the  three  women 
should  be  as  plainly  marked  as  possible,  according 
to  the  descriptions  given. 


Copyright,  1921,  by  Essex  Dane. 


[8] 


When  the  Whirlwind  Blows 


SCENE. — A  roughly  furnished  room,  in  the  house 
of  JOSEFA,  the  mother  of  OSWALD,  a  blacksmith; 
the  furniture  is  of  plain,  unpainted  wood.  A 
table  is  just  off  c.  R.  At  back,  c.  L.,  a  long,  low 
window,  fitted  with  iron  bars,  stands  in  a  shallow 
recess.  Rough  dark  curtains  hang  on  either 
side  of  the  window  recess — and  draw,  to  be 
shut  off,  as  required.  In  corner,  B.  at  back, 
obliqued  against  the  wall,  is  a  bench  with 
a  washtub  on  it.  On  the  wall,  near  it,  hangs 
a  wood-chopper.  A  rough  fireplace,  L.  i  E., 
with  a  wood-fire  burning  on  the  hearth.  Over 
fireplace  hangs  a  common  smallish  mirror,  at 
eye-level.  A  lamp  in  a  bracket  hangs  against 
the  wall  above  fireplace.  A  door  c.  back, 
between  window  and  washtub,  leads  outside. 
This  door  has  practicable  lock  and  key.  Hang- 
ing by  this  door  is  an  old-fashioned  lantern,  the 
door  of  which  is  open,  owing  to  a  broken  catch. 
In  it  is  seen  a  short  length  of  candle,  too  small 
for  the  socket,  and  which,  consequently,  droops 
over  to  one  side.  A  chair  stands  above  fireplace, 
and  another  chair  L.  of  table.  A  door  a.  u.  E. 
which  leads  to  JOSEFA'S  bedroom. 

[9] 


2055226 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

(When  the  curtain  rises,  the  room  is  in  semi-dark- 
ness; it  is  late  afternoon  in  winter  and  the 
light  is  almost  gone.  JOSEFA,  a  powerfully 
built  woman  of  peasant  type,  about  forty,  is 
working  at  the  washtub.  After  a  moment  she 
stops,  draws  her  hand  across  her  forehead  as 
if  weary,  goes  to  window  and  looks  up  mid 
down  as  if  expecting  someone.  Then  she  goes 
to  the  fire,  thrusts  a  long  taper  in  it,  and  pro- 
ceeds to  light  up  the  lamp  on  the  wall,  and  then 
goes  to  the  lantern.  She  lights  the  candle  in- 
side, which  she  tries  to  set  up  straight  in  the 
socket,  but  it  resists  her  efforts,  and  droops 
over  as  before.  There  is  a  knock  on  the  win- 
dow. JOSEFA  has  returned  to  the  washtub. 
She  raises  her  head;  her  listless  manner  changes 
completely.  She  runs  back  eagerly  to  window, 
and  looks  out  towards  the  door,  tearing  off  her 
rough  apron.  She  hurries  to  door,  and  opens 
it  all  joyous  expectancy.  Then,  as  a  woman's 
figure  appears  in  the  doorway,  she  draws  back, 
disappointed. ) 

JOSEFA.     Oh — it's  you. 

{The  woman  in  the  doorway  is  about  twenty- five, 
good  looking  and  robust.  She  is  smart,  wears 
town  clothes,  and  exudes  an  excellent  opinion 
of  herself.  She  is  carrying  a  large  bundle, 
and  a  hand-bag.) 

ANNA  (excited  and  breathless,  and  giving  the  im- 
pression that  she  has  been  running).     Josef  a 

[10] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

(JOSEFA     turns    away.     ANNA    stops    suddenly.) 
What's  the  matter? 

Jos.     I  thought  it  was  my  son.     Come  in. 

(  JOSE  FA  returns  to  the  tub.) 

ANNA  (enters,  puts  her  heavy  bundle  on  the 
table,  and  then  closes  and  locks  the  door.  She  goes 
on  talking  breathlessly  as  she  does  so).  Josef  a,  do 
you  want  to  hear  the  news?  Things  are  going  to 
happen  to-night !  The  people  are  ordered  to  gather 
at  General  Androya's  house.  Our  men  are  to  at- 
tack it  and  burn  it  down. 

Jos.  (stopping  her  work,  keenly  interested). 
How  do  you  know? 

ANNA.  It's  true.  The  Workmen's  Council  gave 
the  order  at  eleven  o'clock  this  morning. 

(She  sets  her  bundle  down  on  the  table.) 

Jos.  (keenly  interested,  comes  forward  drying  her 
arms).  Who  told  you? 

ANNA.  Someone  who  heard  the  order  given. 
The  workmen  are  furious  at  the  shooting  of  Lerner 
and  Vassily.  They  say  General  Androya  has  spies 
among  our  own  people.  The  house  will  be  burned, 
and  the  goods  and  furniture  distributed. 

Jos.  And  the  General's  wife?  She's  there  alone. 
What  will  become  of  Elizabeth  Androya? 

ANNA  (callously).  She'll  have  to  take  what's 
coming — unless  she  has  been  warned.  An  orderly 
from  General  Androya  arrived  to-day. 

Jos.  (knowing  her  ANNA).    What  did  you  hear? 

(She  kneels  on  chair,  leaning  over.) 
[II] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

ANNA  (looks  up,  then  smiles  cunningly).  Yes — 
I  did  happen  to  be  in  the  next  room  at  the  time,  but 
that  steward  of  hers  was  creeping  about  as  usual. 
I  discovered  the  cause  of  all  Madame  Androya's 
driving  about  after  dark.  The  General  told  her  to 
find  out  who  would  be  loyal  and  support  his  Govern- 
ment troops  when  he  brings  them. 

Jos.  (bitterly).     Stirring  up  our  enemies! 

ANNA.  Stirring  them  up !  She  has  been  arming 
them. 

Jos.  (springing  up  enraged).     What! 

ANNA.  I've  seen  the  guns  and  cartridge  boxes 
piled  up  in  the  steward's  room  each  day,  and  at 
night,  after  her  carriage  left,  they  would  be  gone. 
She  told  the  messenger  to-day,  she  has  a  list  of 
names  of  all  the  people  in  the  district  they  can 
count  on.  She's  planned  to  join  the  General  to- 
morrow, (Slowly  and  vindictively.)  but  to-night, 
they'll  burn  her  fine  house.  (With  meaning.)  I 
don't  think  Elizabeth  Androya  will  ever  need  a 
lady's  maid  again.  (  JOSE  FA  clasping  her  elbows, 
walks  thoughtfully  down  u.  ANNA  excitedly  undoes 
her  bundle.)  Josef  a,  I've  got  ahead  of  everyone, 
thanks  to  superior  information. 

Jos.  (absorbed  in  her  own  thoughts).  Did  you 
catch  sight  of  that  list  of  names? 

ANNA.     She  kept  it  too  close. 

Jos.     And  now  she's  sent  it  away. 

ANNA  (busy  with  her  bundle).  Oh,  no,  I  heard 
her  say :  "  Tell  the  General  I  have  many  converts ; 
I'll  bring  the  list,  completed,  when  I  meet  his  escort 
at,"  and  then  (Viciously.) — and  then  that  damned 
old  steward  came  in,  and  I  had  to  move  away. 
[12] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

Jos.  (her  back  to  ANNA).  Was  my  son  at  the 
Council  Meeting? 

ANNA  (gives  a  sharp  sidelong  look  at  JOSEFA,  be- 
fore answering,  then,  carelessly).  I  didn't  hear. 
(She  has  spread  out  the  things  from  the  bundle,  and 
turns  the  conversation.)  Look!  My  information 
was  useful.  Much  I  should  have  got,  if  I  hadn't 
helped  myself!  A  foreign  lady's  maid.  (Display- 
ing the  things.)  Silk  skirts  and  stockings,  furs, 
Paris  hats.  Even  if  she  has  the  luck  to  escape,  she 
wouldn't  dare  claim  them  now  there  are  no  courts 
to  appeal  to.  (She  glances  apprehensively  at  the 
door.)  Mind!  You  must  hide  me,  if  anyone  comes. 
I  didn't  dare  slip  off  till  it  was  dark ;  that  steward 
of  hers  disliked  me ;  he  crept  about  softly,  he  might 
have  followed  me.  (She  spreads  out  her  hands,  of- 
fering JOSEFA  her  choice.)  Choose  what  you  like. 

Jos.  (still  preoccupied,  not  noticing  her).  Does 
Oswald  know  you  are  going  away? 

ANNA.  I  haven't  seen  him,  I  tell  you.  Come, 
don't  you  want  something? 

(JOSEFA'S  stolid  manner  breaks  down  utterly.) 

Jos.  (in  a  burst  of  feeling).  Oh,  Anna,  I'm 
afraid — I'm  afraid! 

ANNA  (sharply).    What  are  you  afraid  about? 

Jos.     Oswald. 

ANNA  (indifferently).     Oh,  that. 

Jos.  He  has  not  been  near  his  home  for  two 
weeks.  There's  something  wrong.  Aren't  you 
afraid,  too,  his  sweetheart? 

ANNA.     Certainly  not.    He's  safe  enough. 

[13] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

Jos.  Suppose  they  should  have  discovered  it  was 
he  who  threw  the  bombs ! 

ANNA.  They  can't  have  done  so.  There's  the 
notice  still  hanging  on  the  post-office :  "  Reward  for 
the  apprehension  of  the  perpetrator  of  the  explosion 
of  the  Imperial  Bank."  It  was  there  this  morning. 

Jos.  (unconvinced).  He  must  be  afraid,  or  he 
wouldn't  stay  away.  All  those  deaths  on  the  head 
of  a  lad  of  twenty !  It  wasn't  work  to  give  a  boy ! 

ANNA  (much  more  interested  in  her  finery).  You 
should  be  proud  he  was  picked  out  for  it. 

Jos.  It  was  cruel  of  the  Council  to  set  a  boy  to 
do  it.  I'll  never  forget  his  face  when  he  told  me. 
I  can't  sleep  for  fear.  And  you,  his  sweetheart 

ANNA.  He's  probably  having  a  good  time.  I 
know  these  fellows,  when  they're  off  duty.  He's  all 
right. 

Jos.  They  got  Anton  Vassily,  didn't  they !  And 
there  was  George  Lerner,  for  the  train  wreck.  He 
was  shot,  and  under  ground  three  weeks  before  his 
people  knew  a  word  of  it!  They're  getting  infor- 
mation somehow.  (Fiercely.)  If  you  had  stolen 
that  list  of  Elizabeth  Androya's,  you'd  have  served 
us  all.  It's  got  to  come.  They  could  stamp  out 
everyone  who  won't  stand  by  us,  and  make  an  end. 
The  Council  would  pay  anything  for  that  list  of 
names,  but  no,  you  must  take  trash  like  this. 

(She  gives  the  things  an  angry  push.) 

ANNA  (indignantly).  Trash!  Trash,  you  say? 
(Her  voice  rises  triumphantly.  She  feels  quickly  in 
her  pocket.)  Look!  (She  draws  from  her  pocket  a 
large  silk  handkerchief,  unknots  it,  and  holds  up  a 

[14] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

rope  of  pearls,  and  another,  and  another.) 
"  Trash  "  you  called  them ! 

Jos.  (taking  a  step  back).  The  pearls!  You 
dared!  The  Androya  pearls! 

ANNA.  Why  not?  They'll  sack  the  house  to- 
night. The  case  was  in  her  big  armoire.  I  picked 
it  with  embroidery  scissors.  That  trick  I  learned 
in  my  last  situation.  Someone  in  Paris.  (Chuck- 
ling to  herself. )  He  was  a  clever  devil ! 

(She  puts  them  in  the  bosom  of  her  dress.) 

Jos.  You  could  have  had  your  pearls,  and  every- 
thing else.  They  wouldn't  have  asked  questions, 
Avhen  they'd  done  with  the  people  on  that  list  of 
Elizabeth  Androya's. 

ANNA  (a  note  of  real  terror  in  her  voice).  No 
thank  you!  I'm  city-bred — I  can't  stand  it.  I 
haven't  forgotten  last  time!  Screams  and  shots 
all  night,  and  in  the  morning,  things  lying  in  the 

gutters (She  breaks  off.)  I  hate  the  beasts! 

(Fiercely.)  I'm  going  back  to  Vienna  till  it's  over. 
(There  is  a  knock  on  the  door.  They  both  start — 
look  at  the  door,  then  at  each  other.  ANNA  nervous 
and  unstrung.)  There!  Who's  that!  (She  throws 
the  things  together  hurriedly. )  You  must  hide  me. 

(She  picks  up  the  bundle  in  her  arms.) 

Jos.  (with  hope  in  her  voice).  Perhaps  it's  Os- 
wald. Get  out  of  sight  till  I  see.  (ANNA  goes  to 
the  window  recess.  As  she  moves,  she  lets  fall  a 
small  bag;  it  drops  with  a  sharp  metallic  sound. 
JOSEFA  picks  it  up.)  What's  this?  (She  shakes 
it.)  Gold  money?  (Amazement  in  her  voice.) 

[15] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

ANNA  (seeing  it  and  snatching  it).  Mine.  My 
savings. 

Jos.  (astonished).  All  that!  Why,  there  must 
be 

ANNA  (closing  the  curtains  as  she  disappears  be- 
hind them).  Quick,  answer  the  door. 

( JOSEFA  looks  after  her  for  a  moment,  then  goes 
to  the  door  and  speaks  without  opening  it.) 

Jos.     Who's  there? 

A  WOMAN'S  VOICE  (ojff  stage).  It  is  I,  Josef  a; 
Madame  Androya. 

(ANNA  parts  the  curtains;  JOSEFA  turns,  they 
look  at  each  other.) 

Jos.  (in  a  whisper).  Did  you  hear?  It's  she. 
Elizabeth  Androya.  (ANNA  nods.)  What  can  she 
want  ? 

ANNA  (softly).     Ask  her. 

Jos.  {aloud).     What  do  you  want? 

MME.  A.     My  horse  has  gone  lame. 

(  JOSEFA  looks  over  at  ANNA,  who  gives  a  sigh  of 
relief.) 

Jos.     She's  running  away. 

ANNA.     Is  she  alone?     Ask. 

Jos.     You  look  out.     See  who's  driving  her. 

ANNA  (disappears  through  the  curtains,  then  re- 
appears). There  is  a  carriage  on  the  road,  but  no 
one  with  it.  She's  alone.  (Another  knock.) 

Jos.  (aloud).  A  minute,  wait  one  minute. 
(Under  her  breath  to  ANNA.)  I've  got  to  let  her 
[16] 


in.     (ANNA  mutely  protests.)     Oh — you'll  wriggle 
through  somehow. 

(ANNA  disappears  behind  the  curtains,  as  JOSEFA 
unfastens  the  door.  MADAME  ANDROYA  stands 
outside.  She  is  a  fragile,  petite  woman,  pretty 
and  distinguished,  with  all  the  marks  of  breed- 
ing and  race.  She  wears  a  handsome  cloak, 
hat,  and  lace  veil.) 

MME.  A.     Didn't  you  recognize  my  voice?     I'm 
going  some  distance.    One  of  the  horse's  shoes  is  off. 
Jos.     My  son  is  not  at  home. 

(At  JOSEFA 's  words,  MME.  ANDROYA  looks  at  her 
quickly,  with  a  slight  start.) 

MME.  A.     Your — son? 

Jos.  (shortly).  Been  away  over  a  fortnight. 
Business,  for  the  Workmen's  Council. 

MME.  A.  (as  if  slightly  embarrassed).  Oh,  yes 
— of  course.  (She  hesitates  as  if  about  to  say 
something,  then  changes  her  mind.)  Will  you  see 
to  the  shoe  for  me?  You  can  do  it  just  as  well. 

Jos.  (sullenly).     It's  not  my  work. 

MME.  A.  (with  perfect  good  humor).  We're  all 
doing  other  people's  work,  and  our  own,  too,  in 
these  times.  May  I  sit  by  your  fire?  (She  is 
carrying  a  valise,  and  now  puts  it  down  on  the  floor 
by  the  table;  then  turns  to  the  small  mirror  over  the 
fireplace,  puts  her  veil  back  and  arranges  her  hat. 
As  she  is  doing  so,  ANNA'S  face  appears  between  the 
curtains.  JOSEFA  is  down  R.  facing  curtains.  ANNA 
points  at  the  valise  MME.  ANDROYA  has  put  down. 
JOSEFA  stares  at  her,  then  goes  to  door  c.  R.  and 

[17] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

opens  it.  MME.  ANDROYA,  looking  in  the  mirror, 
sees  ANNA'S  face  emerge  from  the  curtains  and  the 
byplay  between  the  two  women.  She  stands  mo- 
tionless watching  them  through  the  mirror,  then 
goes  on  arranging  her  veil  as  if  she  had  seen  noth- 
ing. JOSEFA  goes  out,  closing  the  door.  MME. 
ANDROYA  stands,  without  turning,  looking  dorm  at 
the  fire.  MME.  ANDROYA,  after  a  brief  pause,  with- 
out moving.)  Come  out.  (Nothing  happens. 
MME.  ANDROYA  with  her  eyes  on  the  mirror.)  I 
know  you  are  there.  Come  out.  (ANNA  slowly 
and  sheepishly  emerges;  MME.  ANDROYA  turns, 
coolly  surveying  her  discomfiture.)  Well  . 
well !  This  is  the  last  place  I  should  have  expected 
to  find  you!  I  admire  your — audacity!  I  won't 
say  anything  that  might  embarrass  you.  Perhaps, 
though,  you  won't  mind  answering  a  question  or  two 
concerning 

ANNA  (quickly  recovering  her  bold  front).  Not 
unless  I  choose! 

MME.  A.  I  realize  how  uncomfortable  you  feel, 
in  my  presence.  Running  with  the  hare  and  hunting 
with  the  hounds  is  risky!  Quite  a  few  things  you 

picked  up  in  your  hurry,  too (ANNA  eyes  her 

silently.)   After  all — they  are  mine — and  they  can't 

be  far  away,  so (Her  eyes  wander  round  the 

room.)  Ah,  well,  those  don't  matter.  What  I 
want — and  mean  to  have,  are  probably  in  your 
pocket.  Strings  of  pearls,  valued  at  many  thou- 
sands. 

ANNA  (protesting  fiercely).  You'll  have  to  prove 
it.  I  never  touched  them !  You  can't  take  charac- 
ters away  like  that ! 

[18] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

MME.  A.  Oh !  You  never  touched  them.  Am  I 
to  understand  that  you  deny ? 

ANNA.  Of  course  I  deny.  If  you  have  been 
robbed  of  your  pearls,  anybody  might  have  taken 
them.  There  is  to  be  no  more  private  property, 
everybody  knows  that! 

MME.  A.  Hardly  worth  while  stealing,  then! 

Of  course,  if  you  deny,  absolutely (She  stops 

short  suddenly;  her  eyes  are  fixed  upon  something 
on  the  ground  at  her  feet.  She  says  suddenly.) 
Then,  what's  this  doing  here?  (She  stoops  and  picks 
up  something.)  A  diamond  clasp,  and  two  pearls. 
(She  turns  on  ANNA.)  Is  this  the  way  you  take 

care  of (ANNA  has  apprehensively  clasped 

her  hand  to  her  dress  where  she  thrust  the  handker- 
chief containing  the  pearls.)  Ah — thank  you.  You 
have  got  them.  I  wanted  to  be  sure.  (Opens  her 
hand.)  There  are  no  pearls  there. 

ANNA  (defying  her).  What's  the  use  of  making 
trouble?  They  would  be  taken  from  you,  anyhow. 
You  didn't  work  for  them,  you  didn't  even  buy 
them ;  you  just 

MME.  A.  (impatiently).  Oh,  please,  please — I 
know  the  jargon  so  well.  You  all  parrot  the  same 
words.  People  have  been  saying  them  since  a  few 
hundreds  of  years  B.  c. — and  no  one  has  made  it 
work,  yet!  You've  picked  it  up  fast.  You  knew 
nothing  of  it  when  Josefa  brought  you  to  me,  a 
starved,  shivering  refugee  from  Vienna,  and  begged 
me  to  employ  you. 

ANNA  (blustering).  Elizabeth  Androya — I  ad- 
vise you  to  be  respectful.  It's  safer  in  this  district ! 

MME.    A.     Elizabeth — Eliz (She    laughs 

[19] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

outright.)  It  does  sound  so  odd!  I  realize  I  must 
get  used  to  it — but  from  you ! 

ANNA.  Only  the  workers  count.  To-day,  I'm 
as  good  as  you. 

MME.  A.  {unperturbed).  That's  the  question. 
Are  you?  I  don't  admit  it.  During  the  war  we 
needed  supervisors  in  the  munitions  works.  You 
were  put  in  charge  of  twenty  women.  You  proved 
yourself  unreliable,  inefficient,  a  petty  tyrant.  The 
women  would  not  obey  you.  You  had  your  chance, 
and  failed.  Therefore  I  contest  your  assertion 
that  you  are  as  good  as  I  am. 

ANNA  {stubbornly).  I  mean,  there  are  no  mas- 
ters and  servants. 

MME.  A.  (with  delightful  good  humor).  You 
know,  Anna,  you  are  talking  like  a  cheap  and  nasty 
3rellow  journal.  There  will  always  be  masters  and 
servants — whatever  you  call  them.  You — are  a 
typical  "  servant  " — though,  of  course,  you  don't 
think  so. 

ANNA.     If  I  had  your  money,  I'd  be  a  lady. 

MME.  A.  (quietly).  If  you  had  fifty  thousand  a 
year,  and  I  were  your  sewing-woman,  you  would  feel 
just  as  uneasy — just  as  clumsy  and  awkward  in  my 
presence  as  you  do  now — though,  of  course,  you 
would  be  wearing  my  pearls  outside  your  dress. 

ANNA  (staring,  and  unable  to  understand  MME. 
ANDROYA'S  refusal  to  be  annoyed).  I  don't  know 
what  you're  talking  about ! 

MME.  A.  (sweetly).  Of  course  not.  You  have  a 
servant's  mind.  (JOSEFA  reenters.  MME.  AN- 
DROYA  turns  quickly.)  Well? 

Jos.  (sulkily).     Your  horse  can't  be  shod. 

[20] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

MME.  A.  (surprised).     Why  not? 

Jos.     There's  a  great  wound  in  its  leg. 

MME.  A.  (rising,  astonished).  Surely  you're 
mistaken!  I  examined  it  just  now;  there  was  noth- 
ing wrong  then! 

Jos.     Look  for  yourself,  if  you  don't  believe  it. 

MME.  A.  (a  keen  glance  at  her).  I  will.  (She 
looks  at  the  window,  which  is  now  dark.)  May  I 
have  a  light?  (JOSEFA  takes  down  the  lantern  and 

hands  it  to  her.) — and  some  water ;  and (She 

hesitates  and  looks  at  the  valise.)  I'll  take  the  va- 
lise ;  there's  linen  in  it. 

(She  goes  towards  it,  but  JOSEFA  intercepts  her.) 

Jos.  I'll  get  you  rags  and  water,  never  mind  the 
valise. 

MME.  A.     I  won't  trouble  you,  I 

Jos.     What  are  you  afraid  of? 
MME.  A.     Not  you,  Josef  a,  but 

(She  glances  at  ANNA.) 

Jos.  This  is  my  house.  I'll  look  after  the  va- 
lise. 

MME.  A.  (quietly,  after  a  second's  hesitation). 
Very  well. 

(She  takes  some  rags  which  JOSEFA  holds  out, 
and  goes  out  c.  door.  JOSEFA  closes  the  door 
after  her  and  stands,  thinking.) 

ANNA    (who  has  been  watching,   directly  MME. 
ANDROYA  is  off,  speaks  eagerly).    Did  you  see  that? 
Did  you  see  how  anxious  she  was  not  to  leave  it? 
[21] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

She  couldn't  insist — it  would  have  looked  too  sus- 
picious. Here's  the  chance  you  wanted,  dropped 
right  in  your  lap. 

Jos.  (only  half  listening).  What  are  you  talk- 
ing about? 

ANNA.  Don't  pretend  it's  not  in  your  mind. 
That  list  of  names  you  wanted  to  get  hold  of  is 
there,  in  that  valise.  (Pointing.)  It  must  be,  or 
why  should  she  be  anxious  not  to  leave  it? 

Jos.     I  wish  the  fool  hadn't  come  here ! 

ANNA  (viciously).  I  wish  it  too!  I  wish  she'd 
stopped  at  home,  to  meet  the  guests  who  are  com- 
ing! (She  goes  over  to  JOSEFA.)  Listen!  Are 
you  going  to  tell  her  what  is  to  happen  to-night? 

Jos.  (troubled).     I  don't  know. 

ANNA.  Why  should  you?  There's  no  need! 
Her  horse  can't  go  on ;  she'll  have  to  return  and  get 
another.  That'll  stop  her  making  trouble  about 
these  (She  draws  the  pearls  half  out  of  her  dress.) 
— forever.  You  shall  get  your  share.  Isn't  she 
one  of  the  class  we  want  to  wipe  out? 

Jos.  (irresolute).  There's  an  ugly  death  for 
everyone  whose  name  is  on  that  paper.  Elizabeth 
Androya  is  not  a  bad  woman 

ANNA.  They're  all  alike.  Some  big  robber 
steals  from  a  little  robber.  Then  he  sits  quiet  and 
hopes  no  one  will  notice.  And  in  fifty  years  they're 
talking  about  "  Divine  Rights."  Wasn't  it  her  hus- 
band, General  Androya,  who  had  Lerner,  and  Vas- 
sily,  and  the  others,  shot? 

Jos.  (savagely).  On  whose  information — God! 
I'd  like  to  know ! 

ANNA  (close  to  her).     They're  all  on  that  list  of 

[22] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

hers.  Every  traitor  in  the  district.  A  bit  of 
leather  and  metal  between  you  and  it,  and  you're 
afraid ! 

Jos.  (looking  at  the  valise).     It  will  be  locked. 

(ANNA  puts  her  hand  on  her  arm.) 

ANNA.  Josef  a — it  was  you  who  injured  her 
horse.  (  JOSEFA  shakes  off  ANNA'S  arm,  goes  to  the 
valise,  kneels,  and  examines  it.  ANNA  follows  her 
up  and  puts  her  hand  on  JOSEFA'S  shoulder.)  It 
was  you. 

( JOSEFA  lifts  her  head,  looks  straight  in  front  of 
her,  then  says,  shortly.) 

Jos.     Yes. 

ANNA  (eagerly).     What  did  you  do? 

Jos.     Drove  a  knife  through  the  foreleg. 

ANNA.  And  you're  blowing  hot  and  cold! 
Here's  the  chance  to  do  something.  We  can  make 
her  give  up  this  paper.  Our  men  will  be  masters 
here  in  a  few  hours.  Elizabeth  Androya's  house 
will  be  burning.  You're  crazy!  The  woman's  ab- 
solutely at  our  mercy.  What  are  you  afraid  of? 

(  JOSEFA  has  risen  from  her  knees  and  is  standing 
irresolute.  MME.  ANDROYA  opens  fhe  doort  c., 
and  speaks  as  she  enters.) 

MME.  A.  You're  right — it  is  a  bad  wound  — 
(The  two  women,  who  are  standing  over  the  valise, 
move  away  slightly,  in  opposite  directions.  MME. 
ANDROYA  notes  the  movement,  and  glances  sharply 

[23] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

from  them  to  the  valise.) — though  how  it  happened, 
is  a  mystery.  (As  she  sets  the  lantern  on  the  table, 
JOSEFA'S  and  ANNA'S  eyes  meet.  Then  JOSEFA  goes 
quietly  round  to  the  door,  c.  back,  locks  it,  with- 
draws the  key,  and  slips  it  in  her  pocket,  unseen  by 
MME.  ANDROYA.)  I  must  return  on  foot  for  an- 
other horse.  Meanwhile  there  are  things  here  which 
belong  to  me.  (To  ANNA,  sharply.)  Come — my 
pearls. 

ANNA  (facing  her  boldly).  You  let  that  drop! 
We'll  have  that  out  before  the  Council. 

MME.  A.  When  you're  half-way  to  Vienna! 
You  won't  get  more  than  half-way — the  Govern- 
ment troops  are  holding  the  frontier.  We  can  trace 
you.  (ANNA  glares  at  her,  defying  her.)  Very 
well,  physical  force  is  not  my  metier.  (She  turns 
to  JOSEFA.)  I  hold  you  responsible  for  this  woman 
till  my  return.  (She  stoops  to  take  up  the  valise.) 

Jos.  (stopping  her).  You  can't  carry  that  with 
you. 

MME.  A.     Oh,  yes. 

Jos.     It's  too  heavy ;  you  need  to  make  haste. 

MME.  A.     There's  very  little  inside. 

Jos.  Leave  it.  It  will  be  safe  enough.  Pick  it 
up  as  you  go  by. 

MME.  A.     Not  necessary. 

Jos.  Nonsense.  People  like  you  don't  carry 
baggage  about! 

MME.  A.  (looking  at  her  steadily).  You  are 
very  insistent!  Is  there  something  that  you  ought 
to  tell  me? 

Jos.  (roughly).     I  don't  care  what  you  do. 

MME.  A.     But  you  do  know  something.     What 

[24] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

is  it?  (  JOSEFA  avoids  MME.  ANDROYA'S  eyes  and  is 
silent.)  Then  I'll  start.  Give  me  my  valise. 

Jos.  (who  is  standing  in  front  of  it).  No. 
(MME.  ANDROYA  looks  at  her,  amazed.)  You  take 
good  advice.  Go  now  at  once.  Never  mind  your 
belongings.  Never  mind  anything  else,  get  away. 

MME.  A.  (quietly  facing  her).  You're  behaving 
very  strangely,  Josef  a! 

Jos.  (aggressively).  Then  why  should  you  mis- 
trust me?  Do  you  think  I  want  to  steal  it? 

MME.  A.  (with  a  twinkle  in  her  eye  as  she  glances 
at  ANNA).  You  choose  very  queer  company. 

Jos.  I'll  lock  it  up  for  safety.  I'll  take  it  to 
my  own  room.  Will  that  satisfy  you?  (She 
snatches  the  valise  without  waiting  for  a  reply. 
MME.  ANDROYA  shrugs  her  shoulders,  in  protesting 
acquiescence.  JOSEFA  calls  to  ANNA  as  she  goes 
out  door,  R.  tr.  E.)  Bring  the  lamp  here. 

(ANNA  takes  the  lamp  off  the  wall  and  follows 
JOSEFA  into  the  room,  R.,  the  door  swinging 
to  after  her.  The  room  is  lighted  by  the  fire 
and  the  light  of  the  lantern  which  MME.  AN- 
DROYA has  left  on  the  table.  The  stage  must 
be  sufficiently  light  to  see  MME.  ANDROYA'S 
face  and  movements  clearly  in  what  follows. 
She  looks  after  the  two  women  for  a  moment, 
puzzled,  then  makes  a  quick  decision;  hastily 
throws  on  her  cloak  and  hat,  and  makes  for  the 
door,  c.  She  tries  to  open  it,  it  resists;  tries 
it  again,  finds  it  locked,  looks  at  it.  She  goes 
to  the  window,  sees  it  is  barred,  and  realizes  she 
is  a  prisoner.  She  glances  at  room,  R.,  on  the 

[25] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

watch  for  their  return,  then  pulls  paper  out  of 
the  bosom  of  her  dress,  and  looks  about  for  a 
place  to  Mde  it.) 

MME.  A.  (under  her  breath).  It  must  go.  (She 
goes  to  fire  and  is  about  to  drop  it  in — and  turns, 
still  watching  door  n.  Her  eyes  fall  on  the  lantern 
— the  door  of  which  is  open — the  candle  burning — 
and  drooping  over  to  one  side.  An  idea  comes. 
She  goes  to  lantern,  and  is  about  to  lift  the  candle 
out,  her  eyes  on  door  B.  She  stops.  Takes  up  her 
cigarette  case,  which  she  has  put  down  on  the  table 
earlier,  and  puts  a  cigarette  between  her  lips,  un- 
lighted.  Then,  still  on  the  watch  for  the  women's 
return,  she  folds  up  the  paper  she  has  taken  from 
her  dress  till  it  is  about  an  inch  wide,  wraps  it 
around  the  base  of  the  candle,  and  replaces  it,  now 
straight,  in  the  lantern.  Almost  before  she  is  fin- 
ished, the  door,  a.,  opens,  whereupon  she  raises  the 
lantern  ostentatiously,  and  lights  her  cigarette  at 
the  candle  as  JOSEFA  enters.  MME.  ANDROYA,  in  an 
unconcerned  voice.)  My  dear  Josef  a,  a  moment 
ago  you  urged  me  vehemently  to  start  for  home; 
you  were  most  anxious  for  my  safety. 

Jos.     So? 

(  JOSEFA 's  indecision  is  gone;  her  manner  is  inso- 
lent; in  her  own  mind,  she  is  mistress  of  the 
situation.) 

MME.  A.  But  you  had  forgotten  something. 
You  had  locked  the  door. 

(  JOSEFA  has  sauntered  to  the  door  c.  and  put  her 
back  against  it.) 

[26] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

Jos.     Well? 

MME.  A.     And  taken  away  the  key. 

Jos.  (coolly).     What's  your  hurry? 

MME.  A.  (affecting  surprise).  Oh — then  you've 
changed  your  mind ! 

Jos.     About  what? 

MME.  A.     About  my  danger. 

Jos.  (indifferently).  You  should  know  best,  if 
you're  in  danger ;  if  there's  something  you're  afraid 
of,  something,  for  instance,  (Meaningly.)  that  you 
don't  want  known? 

MME.  A.  (haughtily).     I  don't  understand  you. 

Jos.  You  had  better  understand.  (She  comes 
nearer  to  MME.  ANDROYA.)  Elizabeth  Androya, 
there  are  others  who  would  be  less  merciful  than  I. 
You  are  on  your  way  to  join  your  husband,  because 
you  have  been  warned.  Your  house  will  be  attacked 
in  a  few  hours'  time. 

MME.  A.  (starting).     To-night? 

Jos.  Ah,  you  didn't  know,  then?  Well,  I  won't 
stop  you.  You  may  go,  just  the  same,  but  (She 
touches  MME.  ANDROYA'S  arm.  MME.  ANDROYA  re- 
sents the  touch  and  draws  away  a  little.)  "  Noth- 
ing for  nothing."  There's  a  condition. 

MME.  A.  Payment.  The  Apostles  of  the  New 
Freedom  don't  despise  the  old  methods.  In  what 
form  ? 

Jos.  You  want  to  return  to  your  house.  In  a 
few  hours  it  will  be  impossible.  It  will  be  in  the 
hands  of  the  people. 

MME.  A.  It  would  not  be  the  first  time  I  have 
faced  an  angry  mob. 

Jos.     Not  one  like  this.     It  is  known  how  you 

[27] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

have  been  employed.  When  the  real  issue  comes, 
when  the  Government  troops  arrive,  our  men  will 
be  met,  not  by  the  machine-guns  of  the  troops,  only, 
but  by  guns  and  revolvers  of  their  own  townsfolk 
and  neighbors — supplied  by  you. 

(A  moment's  silence.) 

MME.  A.  (quietly  smoking  her  cigarette).  I  ad- 
mit it.  "  The  Right  to  Choose,"  "  Freedom,"  aren't 
they  your  "  slogans  "  ? 

Jos.  I'm  uneducated  and  rough,  like  the  rest. 
I  can't  argue  with  you,  but  (Savagely.)  when  our 
men  get  control  here,  let  the  damned  bourgeois  and 
their  friends,  the  sympathizers  who  have  been  wa- 
vering between  us  and  you,  look  out  for  themselves. 
We  want  the  names  of  the  cowards  who  daren't 
stand  by  their  own ;  the  men  who  have  gone  back  on 
us.  Give  me  that  list  of  traitors.  (MME.  ANDEOYA 
looks  up  sharply.)  That's  what  I  want.  I  know 
you  have  one — never  mind  how.  That's  my  condi- 
tion. Give  it  up,  then  you  can  go. 

MME.  A.  (disdainfully).  All  my  life  I  have  given 
orders.  I  cannot  remember  ever  having  threatened 
or  bullied.  You,  because  you  have  heard  a  vague 
rumor 

Jos.     You  waste  time  in  lying. 

MME.  A.  Even  were  it  true,  an  orderly  from 
General  Androya  arrived  this  morning,  and  re- 
turned at  once.  By  this  time,  (She  looks  at  her 
wrist-watch.) — it  will  be,  you  can  guess  in  whose 
hands. 

Jos.  (with  a  smile).     I  know. 
[28] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

MME.  A.     In  ray  husband's. 

Jos.  In  yours.  "  Tell  General  Androya  I  have 
many  converts ;  I  will  bring  the  list  of  their  names — 
with  me." 

(The  two  -women  look  at  each  other;  a  short 
pause.) 

MME.  A.  So ;  the  faithful  Anna  takes  my  wages, 
and  spies.  You  didn't  tell  me  that  when  you  begged 
me  to  take  her  in  my  service.  You  build  the  New 
Heaven  and  Earth  with  ugly  tools.  (Decisively.) 
Well,  since  you  have  taken  my  property  by  force, 
since  my  valise  is  already  in  your  hands,  since  you've 
helped  yourself — I'll  borrow  your  lantern,  and  go. 
(She  takes  up  the  lantern  and  moves  to  the  door.) 
Be  good  enough 

Jos.  Stop.  (She  goes  to  door,  R.,  opens  it  with 
her  right  hand,  her  eyes  on  MME.  ANDROYA,  and 
beckons.  Then  she  crosses  to,  and  leans  against 
door  c.,  watching  MME.  ANDROYA'S  face.  ANNA 
comes  into  the  doorway,  R.,  and  stands  there,  an  evil 
smile  on  her  face,  the  valise  hanging  down,  open  and 
empty,  in  her  right  hand.)  You  may  take  your 
valise.  It  is  worthless. 

MME.  A.  (furious,  seeing  what  they  have  done). 
You  have  dared ! 

Jos.  That  surprises  you,  doesn't  it!  That  a 
common  peasant  you  thought  you  could  twist  round 
your  finger  should  "  dare  " !  We've  lots  of  sur- 
prises for  you  people  who  are  used  to  getting  your 
own  way.  (She  snaps  her  fingers.)  You  count  for 
no  more  than  any  other  woman.  (Slowly,  with  a 
malicious  smile.)  The  door  will  not  be  opened. 

[29] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

MME.  A.  (controlling  herself  and  speaking 
quietly).  By  what  right  do  you  detain  me? 

Jos.  Ideas  of  right  and  wrong  are  changing. 
You  want  to  go  ?  That  roll  of  names — is  the  price. 

MME.  A.  The  men  and  women  on  that  list  are 
not  for  sale. 

(  JOSEF  A  and  ANNA  exchange  glances.) 

ANNA  (threatening).  Last  week  the  Workmen's 
Council  publicly  flogged  a  woman  of  your  class  who 
defied  them. 

(MME.  ANDROYA  is  silent.) 

Jos.  Are  you  going  to  let  them  search  you? 
The  wife  of  General  Androya  in  the  hands  of  rough 
peasants? 

MME.  A.  Let  them  search;  they  will  find  noth- 
ing. 

Jos.  (going  to  her).  Where  is  it,  then?  What 
have  you  done  with  it?  I'll  swear  you  brought  it 
here.  You  fool — I  have  all  the  time  I  want.  You 
have,  at  most — three  hours.  (MME.  ANDROYA 
quietly  continues  smoking.  JOSEFA  takes  up  the 
lantern  and  holds  it  out  to  ANNA.)  The  carriage; 
search  it. 

(As  ANNA  takes  the  lantern  MME.  ANDROYA'S 
eyes  follow  it;  she  watches  with  a  curious  look, 
then,  with  a  little  smile,  resumes  her  cigarette. 
JOSEFA  has  unlocked  the  door;  ANNA  goes  out. 
JOSEFA  immediately  closes  and  locks  it  after 
her,  and  puts  the  key  back  in  her  pocket.  Di- 

[30] 


rectly  ANNA  is  gone,  MME.  ANDROYA  throws 
away  her  cigarette,  drops  her  nonchalant  man- 
ner, and  turns  with  a  quick,  earnest  appeal  to 
JOSE  FA.) 

MME.  A.  What  is  your  motive?  I  came  here 
because  I  trusted  you.  Your  husband  was  in  our 
employ  all  his  life — his  father  before  him.  You  be- 
long here,  as  I  do.  What  is  your  motive? 

Jos.  (doggedly).     I  stand  by  my  people. 

MME.  A.  Then  see  that  your  weapons  are  fair. 
If  you  had  what  you're  so  eager  for,  that  list  of 
names,  what  use  would  you  make  of  it? 

Jos.     The  Council  deals  with  traitors. 

MME.  A.  The  Council!!  Is  it  for  them?  Butch- 
ery! Massacre!  Wholesale  murder!  For  them! 
Are  you  willing  to  be  their  tool?  What  good  has 
the  "  Council "  done  for  you  ?  What  good  will  it 
ever  do  for  you?  There's  not  a  woman  on  that 
Council,  Josefa, — but  there  are  women  on  that  roll 
of  names.  You  know  how  your  "  Council  "  deals 
with  them !  They  would  be  the  first  to  suffer.  Not 
only  they,  but  every  woman,  and  every  little  child 
belonging  to  the  men  whose  names  are  written  there. 
The  last  outbreak — you  know  what  happened  then. 
The  men  were  killed  outright,  but  the  women,  and 

the  little  children !  (Pause.)  And  it  would 

be  your  doing  this  time.  Would  you  ever  be  able  to 
sleep?  Would  you  dare  close  your  eyes — for  fear 
of  what  you  would  see?  Haven't  you  learned, 
haven't  you  realized,  there  is  a  struggle  within  a 
struggle  going  on?  That  means  more  to  you,  and 
me,  and  Anna  out  there — (Pointing  off.) — than  any 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

issue  of  Governments,  or  Councils!  Men,  in  Eu- 
rope, are  thinking  only  of  men.  Women  are  so 
many  pawns — providers  of  material  to  fight  their 
accursed  "  next  war  " — that  is  already  on  their 
lips !  Women  are  being  reckoned  in  terms  of  chil- 
dren only.  Have  you  read  Italy's  new  laws? 
France's?  Enlightened  France's?  You  mad  woman, 
don't  you  see,  won't  you  realize,  unless  women  stamp 
out  their  suspicions  and  feuds,  and  link  themselves 
together  everywhere,  they  will  live  to  regret  it  most 
bitterly?  It  is  no  time  to  side  with  this  group,  or 
that.  Stand  by  the  women.  Stand  by  your  own. 
The  men  have  shown  you  the  way,  with  their  splen- 
did sex-loyalt}7.  Imitate  it,  beat  them  at  their  own 
game.  War  on  war,  till  all  the  guns  are  silent,  and 
the  shell  factories  are  dust  heaps,  and  war  is  dead, 
killed  by  the  workers — and  the  women.  (She 
watches;  JOSEFA  stands  silent.)  Have  you  nothing 
to  answer? 

Jos.  (after  a  moment,  lifts  her  head,  moved  but 
dogged).  Give  me  one  thing,  then — give  me  this. 
Rewards  have  been  paid.  A  man,  or  men,  have  sold 
information  to  General  Androya's  staff;  this  much 
is  known.  I  want  their  names.  The  rest  (Her 
voice  trembles.),  because  of  the  women,  and  the  little 
ones,  can  go. 

MME.  A.  You  are  sure?  A  man,  or  men,  you 
say? 

Jos.  George  Lerner — at  least  in  his  case  we  are 
sure. 

MME.  A.  There  are  many  motives  for  treachery. 
Revenge,  hate,  passion,  greed.  In  the  cases  you 
say  are  known,  which  would  it  be? 

[32] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

Jos.  (turning,  looking  at  her).  Why  do  you 
ask? 

MME.  A.  I'm  curious — because,  in  one  such 
case  as  you  speak  of,  the  information  was  offered 
to,  and  refused  by — me. 

Jos.     You  know  the  man. 

(Looking  at  MME.  ANDROYA.) 

MME.  A.  (returning  her  look).  I  know  the — 
person. 

Jos.  (eagerly).     Tell  me 

(Before  she  can  finish  the  sentence  ANNA  knocks. 
JOSEFA  goes  to  the  door  and  lets  her  in,  then 
stares  anew  at  MME.  ANDROYA.) 

ANNA.  There's  nothing  there.  (She  puts  lan- 
tern on  table,  and  sees  the  two  women  looking  at 
each  other;  asks  quickly.)  What  has  she  been  say- 
ing? Have  you  got  it  out  of  her? 

(The  tension  is  not  broken  by  ANNA'S  words; 
MME.  ANDROYA  and  JOSEFA  are  still  looking  at 
each  other.) 

MME.  A.  (quietly).     Think  it  over. 

ANNA  (impatiently).  Are  you  letting  her  throw 
dust  in  your  eyes?  (She  goes  close  to  JOSEFA  and 
pulls  at  her  sleeve,  and  speaks  hurriedly  and  low.) 
Some  of  the  comrades  are  at  the  house  of  Catharine 
Vassily,  up  the  hill.  She  passed  as  I  was  searching. 
Anton  Vorjak,  and  the  brother  of  the  man  they 
shot,  George  Lerner's  brother,  Josef.  Four  or  five 
are  there.  Let  me  fetch  them. 

[33) 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

(JOSEFA  hesitates,  then  pushes  ANNA  aside,  and 
crosses  to  MME.  ANDROYA.) 

Jos.  I  don't  want  to  do  it — I  have  no  grudge 
against  you — although  you  are  Androya's  wife. 
But  you  must  give  up  the  list,  the  names  of  those 
who  are  disloyal  to  us.  If  it  is  not  upon  you,  then 
where  are  you  hiding  it? 

MME.  A.     I  refuse  to  say. 

Jos.     Our  men  won't  take  that  answer. 

MME.  A.     They  must. 

Jos.  As  God  hears,  you  shall  be  forced  to  tell. 
There  are  comrades  close  at  hand.  If  I  keep  yea 
until  they  arrive,  if  I  show  them  their  enemy,  the 
woman  who  has  been  among  our  people,  poisoning 
their  minds,  bribing  them,  arming  them,  the  wife  of 
the  man  who  gave  the  order  for  their  comrades' 
death 

MME.  A.  And  my  husband — what  will  you  say 
to  him? 

Jos.     Eh? 

MME.  A.  You  surely  don't  suppose  he  won't 
know!  It  will  not  be  a  pleasant  end  that  will  be 
meted  out  to  you  two!  When  it  comes  to  horrible 
methods  of  doing  people  to  death,  our  soldiers  can 
quite  match  yours.  White,  or  black,  or  yellow,  men 
and  armies  are  all  alike — when  the  "  beast  "  in  them 
gets  loose. 

Jos.  It's  on  my  head,  what  comes  of  it.  (She 
turns  to  ANNA.)  Go  to  the  house  of  Catharine 
Vassily.  Tell  the  men  that  General  Androya's  wife 
is  here,  that  she  is  guilty  of  supplying  the  people 
with  arms  to  aid  her  husband's  troops  against  us. 

[34] 


(She  hands  the  lantern  to  ANNA.)  When  you  have 
reached  the  house,  hold  this  high.  I  shall  see,  from 
the  window.  (She  unlocks  the  door.  MME.  AN- 
DROYA looks  at  the  lantern,  and  at  the  women;  then, 
her  nerves  at  breaking  point,  gives  way  to  hysterical 
laughter.)  Are  you  mad? 

MME.  A.     I  thank  God,  my  last  laugh  is  my  best ! 

ANNA  (at  door).  You  spoke  the  truth,  Eliza- 
beth Androya,  your  last. 

(JOSEFA  has  been  watching  MME.  ANDROYA, 
whose  eyes  are  fixed  on  the  lantern.  As  ANNA 
is  almost  out  of  the  door,  JOSEFA'S  voice  stops 
her.) 

Jos.  Wait!  Comeback.  (ANNA  turns.)  Close 
that  door.  (ANNA  obeys.)  That  lantern;  bring  it 
here.  Set  it  down.  (ANNA  obeys.  MME.  ANDROYA 
makes  a  move  towards  it.)  Keep  away.  You 
laughed.  Your  eyes  were  on  the  lantern.  Why? 

ANNA  (staring  at  the  lantern;  suddenly).  The 
light!  Look!  There's  something  wrapped  around 
it.  Paper.  See!  (She  points.) 

Jos.  (taking  her  eyes  off  MME.  ANDROYA  for  the 
first  time).     I  was  right. 
.     ANNA.     It's  there.     The  roll  of  names ! 

Jos.  So,  we  can  do  without  your  help.  The 
traitors  who  betrayed  us — (Exalted.)  as  Sisera 
into  the  hands  of  Jael,  delivered  into  my  hands! 
(She  unfolds  the  paper,  her  hands  tremble  wifh  ex- 
citement; after  looking  at  it  a  moment,  she  holds  it 
out  to  ANNA.)  Read. 

(ANNA  takes  the  paper  and  deciphers  it  with 
growing  bewilderment.) 

[35] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

ANNA.  "  Take — three  beetroots,  43 — a  pint  of 
cream,  7 — six  eggs,  51 — two  cloves  of  garlic,  8 — a 
large " 

(JOSEFA  takes  it  out  of  ANNA'S  hand.) 

Jos.  (angrily).     What's  all  this  rubbish? 

MME.  A.  (quietly).     A  recipe. 

THE  Two  WOMEN.     A  recipe?     What! 

MME.  A.  For  Bortsh!  The  General's  favorite 
soup — A  recipe  for  Bortsh.  I  congratulate  you  on 
your  most  brilliant  discovery.  A  list,  certainly, 
not  of  enemies — but  ingredients,  my  clever,  intelli- 
gent conspirators!  You  have  it — make  the  most 
of  it! 

Jos.  (tearing  it  across  and  throwing  it  on  the 
floor).  The  trick  won't  help  you.  (To  ANNA,  who 
is  at  the  open  door,  looking  out.)  What  are  you 
waiting  for? 

ANNA  (holding  up  her  hand).  Listen!  No  need 
to  go ;  our  men  are  coming  down  the  road.  Do  you 
hear  ? 

(There  is  a  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  in  the  distance.) 

Jos.  So  much  the  better.  (She  goes  toward  the 
door,  but  stops  half-way  and  listens.)  But,  (A 
query  in  her  voice.)  horses?  (To  ANNA.)  Look 
out. 

MME.  A.  (with  a  little  start,  says  softly  to  her- 
self). Horses! 

Jos.  (to  ANNA).     Do  you  see  them? 

ANNA  (watching).    Wait  till  they  turn  the  bend. 

Jos.  (doubtfully,  to  herself).  Lorries  and  cars, 
our  men ;  but,  horses  ? 

[36] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

ANNA.     There  must  be  quite  a  number. 

MME.  A.  (clasping  her  hands  nervously,  and 
speaking  hardly  above  a  whisper).  You  hear  them! 
You  do  hear  them! 

ANNA.     They're  riding  fast. 

(MME.  ANDROYA  has  gone  to  the  window  and 
caught  hold  of  the  bars  in  her  effort  to  see  out. 
JOSEFA,  seeing  her,  snatches  the  wood-chopper 
off  the  wall,  and  stands  threatening.) 

Jos.  Keep  away  from  those  bars,  or  I'll  break 
your  wrist!  (All  three  are  listening  to  the  sound 
of  the  galloping  horses,  which  comes  nearer.  To 
ANNA.)  Are  they  at  the  turn? 

ANNA  (suddenly).     Here  they  come,  now! 

(She  is  peering  out  into  the  darkness.) 

Jos.     Open  the  door  wide. 

ANNA.  They're  stopping!  Surely  they're  stop- 
ping! 

Jos.  (surprised).  What  can  they  be  stopping 
here  for? 

MME.  A.  (breathlessly).  Hadn't  you  better — 
see! 

(There  is  a  clatter  of  hoofs,  then  a  man's  voice 
says,  in  a  short,  sharp  tone  of  command, 
"  Halt!  Show  a  light!  "  There  is  a  sudden 
flare  outside,  like  a  torch  being  lighted.  ANNA 
draws  back  as  if  a  bullet  had  gone  by.) 

ANNA  (in  a  terrified  scream).  God  in  Heaven! 
Government  soldiers! 

[37] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

Jos.     Who  can  have  sent  them? 

MME.  A.  (her  voice  rising  to  a  triumphant  cres- 
cendo on  the  last  words).  "  Tell  the  General  I'll 
bring  the  list,  completed,  when  I  meet  his  escort,  at 
Oswald  the  blacksmith's  house,  at  six  o'clock  to- 
night." (Turning  on  ANNA.)  You  didn't  hear 
the  last  words  when  you  listened  at  the  keyhole! 

(VOICE  outside,  as  before,  "  Dismount!  ") 

ANNA  (her  bluster  gone,  awed).  The  master's 
escort ! 

MME.  A.  (mocking).  Yes — "the  master's." 
How  the  "  servant  "  comes  out  in  you,  my  dear 
Anna!  There  will  always  be  a  master-class — of 
brains.  (As  she  goes  to  the  door,  the  women  fall 
back,  cowed.)  Don't  be  afraid,  I'll  give  neither  of 
you  away — for  this  very  anxious  half-hour!  (She 
calls  outside.)  One  moment,  Lieutenant,  and  I'll  be 
with  you.  (She  points  to  the  two  torn  pieces  of 
paper.)  Pick  up  that  list  of  names. 

(The  women  stare  from  her  to  the  pieces  of  paper 
on  the  floor.) 

Jos.  (faintly).     List — of  names?     That? 

MME.  A.  Of  course.  (ANNA  sullenly  stoops, 
lifts  them,  and  holds  them  out.  MME.  ANDROYA, 
taking  them,  folds  them  and  puts  them  in  her  dress.) 
Have  you  never  heard  of  a  cipher?  (JOSEFA  moves 
angrily.  MME.  ANDROYA  points,  warningly,  to  the 
door;  there  is  a  tiny  sound  of  harness  jingling.) 
Till  you  have  brains,  dear  friends,  you  won't  shake 
us.  (Her  manner  becomes  imperative,  and  she  holds 

[38] 


WHEN  THE  WHIRLWIND  BLOWS 

out  her  hand  to  ANNA.)  Now,  my  pearls.  (ANNA 
hesitates.  Warningly.)  Don't  fear,  I  won't  call 
in  the  soldiers.  (She  waits;  ANNA  pulls  out  the 
handkerchief  and  gives  it  to  MME.  ANDEOYA,  who 
looks  at  them,  and  pockets  them  as  she  speaks.)  I 
can  do  better.  I'll  leave  you  to  your  friend,  Josefa. 
Give  her  the  news  she's  waiting  for.  News  of  her 
son.  Tell  her,  through  you,  he  was  arrested,  tried, 
(She  pauses.)  and  shot — a  week  ago.  Show  her 
the  money  you  were  paid  for  it.  Tell  her  to  whom 
you  gave  the  information.  (Mockingly.)  Women 
like  you  should  not  make  enemies.  (Ironically.) 
You  forget  how  much  my  steward — "  loved  "  you, 
my  dear  Anna!  (The  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  breaks 
the  tense  silence.  MME.  ANDROYA  calling  outside.) 
I'm  coming  now,  Lieutenant.  (To  ANNA.)  Don't 
be  afraid!  I  won't  call  in  the  soldiers!  I  leave 
you  to  Josefa,  to  his  mother — to  explain ! 

(She  goes  out.  ANNA,  rigid  with  terror,  has 
backed  against  the  wall,  R.  Her  eyes  never 
leave  JOSE  FA'S  face,  which  is  like  stone.  She 
stands  quite  still,  her  eyes,  almost  unseeing, 
looking  through  and  beyond  ANNA,  only,  her 
fingers  pass  slowly,  automatically,  along  the 
edge  of  the  wood-chopper,  which  she  has  never 
laid  down.  A  man's  voice,  outside,  not  too 
near,  says,  sharply:  "Forward!"  A  clatter 
of  hoofs.  As  they  die  away  the  curtain  quietly 
descends,  shutting  out  the  two  motionless  fig- 
ures.) 

CURTAIN 

[39] 


UC  SOUTHERN  RE 


A    000  034  051     3 


